


Bare Foot in the Tower

by Winterstar



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bottom Tony Stark, Crack, Foot Fetish, M/M, Mild Kink, Sub Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 14:19:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4669826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterstar/pseuds/Winterstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony thinks he might have a foot fetish, then finds out it isn't that at all....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bare Foot in the Tower

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, I have no idea where this came from - I pretty much have no interest in feet at all. But then I might now...

The first thing Steve does upon entering his assigned floor in the Tower, after he stows the shield is sit down on the steps to the living room, and pull off his boots and socks. He smiles up at Tony and then walks across the hardwood floor in bare feet. It shouldn't bother Tony, at all. It shouldn't be a big deal. Tony assumes lots of people walk around their houses, apartments, cottages, flats, digs, what have you, in bare feet. 

But their feet are not Steve’s bare feet.

This peek at the uncovered feet of Captain America stands out as the first time Tony has glimpsed any part of Steve other than the acceptable skin of his face and hands, bare. Sure he might have gotten a quick look at Steve’s side when the dope was in the hospital after taking SHIELD down with no more than a winged newbie and Natasha (granted, the Black Widow is like an entire army) but she was wounded, as was the one eyed wonder, plus there was Hill. But really it was all alone, because Tony was not involved. Tony carefully ignores the fact he did the same thing only months previous to Steve’s stunt. 

It all doesn't matter anyhow, because what matters happens to be feet, bare feet. Tony stares until Steve clears his throat and begins to lavish Tony with praise about the apartment. Okay it's not praise, but it is a nice turn around from their previous interactions. Steve is grateful, the place is great.

“Until I get back on my feet again,” Steve says and this draws Tony’s glance back to the toes peeking out from underneath the hem of his jeans. 

The words filter up to Tony and he realizes the implications. “What?”

“I appreciate you offering me some place to stay until I find a place of my own, Tony. I really do.”

Tony screws up his face because a temporary abode this is not. It has all the latest and greatest gadgets all wrapped up in facades that look nicely like 1940 style. That shit cost a lot, but Steve words catch Tony unprepared and he only mumbles a reply. Something along the lines of no problem Capsicle or it could have been Capsitoes or something like that because Steve glances down at his own feet and frowns, furrowing that brow. 

Tony excuses himself and spends the rest of the day in the workshop. It's not a trivial thing being the main supplier of cool new gizmos for the Avengers. He has to stay on the top of his game. He pretends he doesn't spend an inordinate amount of time considering the sleek line of Steve’s toes or what the arch of his foot might look like. 

The next time he sees Steve they are both on the common floor, and Steve hoofs down a large bowl (the whole box) of cereal with about a quart of milk in it. He's standing at the window, staring out, munching, and he has no shoes or socks again. 

The bare nakedness of Steve’s feet draws Tony's attention like a moth to a flame. He tries to shrug it off, but he keeps jerking his head to see them as he talks to Steve. It turns out that Steve would like Tony to find a way to retrieve the shield if Steve ever loses it again. Or in other words, he decides to drop in like an idiot and go defenseless to the battle. 

“I wasn't defenseless,” Steve says. 

Tony mutters about gunshot wounds and facial fractures. To which Steve counters, “I went in a uniform. I went prepared.”

Tony almost asks if he went barefoot, but gulps down his words when Steve stuffs a huge spoonful (he might be using a soup spoon to eat) into his mouth. He smiles around the crunching and little rivers of milk spill from the corners of his lips, trailing down his throat and Tony watches. And thinks about licking it up. 

He excuses himself immediately. 

He must be a fucking dog. What the hell is wrong with him? He only broke up with Pepper (okay she broke up with him) a month ago. He's not that desperate. He calls her. 

“Tony, it's not surprising.”

“How is this not surprising? Come back to me, straighten me out.”

She sighs, and, while it is fond, there's a measure of exasperation in it. “You know that's why we broke up. I can't fix you, Tony. Only you can, or you accept who you are.”

“Maybe I don't like me.” He clutches the phone and hates to sound so pathetic. 

“Tony, I love you, I like you. Don't go hurting someone I love.” Her voice softens. “I have to go.”

“I know.”

“You'll figure it out, you always do,” Pepper treats him better than he deserves. “Plus, you've had a crush on him since you were three years old, it's not a surprise.”

He grunts at her when she disconnects. There was no crushing. It was innocent childhood hero worship. No crushing. With no other recourse, Tony sets out a plan of attack. It happens to be hanging out in his workshop for all hours. 

He doesn't even know how many hours or even days pass when he hears someone swear and then say ouch. Whipping around from his console, he finds Steve standing with his hands in his back pockets, balancing on one bare foot, as he picks up the other one to examine it. He's doing some contorted rendition of a ballet position, Tony thinks. 

“Did you break something?” Steve asks and then takes his hands out of his pockets to pick some offending particle from his foot. He's still doing the ballerina bit while he tries to get what’s stabbing him out of the ball of his foot. He picks out a metal shard. “Got it!”

He smiles at Tony as if he's just taken down an evil big bad. Tony growls at him, yanks the tiny shard away, and tosses it in the trash. He tries not to look at the tiny bubble of blood on Steve’s up turned foot. “You need a bandage?” He mumbles. 

“Nope, already healed,” Steve says and finally (thank God) puts his beautiful foot (Tony did not just think that) down. He grins at Tony and then becomes the serious Captain of their team. “I'd like to take a few minutes and discuss the logistics, how we’re planning on taking down the remaining Hydra cells.”

“Isn't that Hill’s job,” Tony says, but his eyes lower to those pretty toes. He wonders if Steve’s toes got prettier with the serum. He frowns and rubs his forehead. “I need a nap.”

“A nap? Hill? Wait, what?” Steve asks and he does a little two step as if to follow Tony. 

Putting up his hand, strategically placed so he can't actually see those long slender toes, Tony says, “I'm going to sleep. Ask Hill, leave me alone.”

Steve presses his lips together as if he's suppressing a tirade, but nods instead and without another word leaves. Bare feet and all. 

Tony finds himself drifting to his penthouse apartment, the bedroom and the bed. He flops down and stares at the ceiling. “J-man, do I have a foot fetish?”

“It is not categorized in your list of sexual turn ons, sir. Would you like me to add it?”

“Jesus, no.” Lying to his artificial intelligence is a new low. He grumbles and flips over, closing his eyes. Luckily he doesn't dream of feet, but he does dream of Steve. He's not proud of the results, because he hasn't had that kind of dream since he was a teenager. He fumbles to the bathroom to clean up, strips, and then he stands under the shower after JARVIS prepares it for him. 

With his head bowed, he lets the water pound on him. He finds himself staring at his feet. They are definitely not as cute as Captain America’s. “Ugh, what is wrong with me?” Thankfully, JARVIS knows better than to answer. 

After, he makes plans to visit Rhodey and just get out of Dodge for a while. He spends three weeks in Germany and has a helluva time, but Rhodey can't stay forever and there's only so much beer someone can drink. He figures his infatuation with Steve, and Steve's feet is probably over. This is a good thing, he hasn't had one of _those_ dreams in over a week. 

Back to the States and tinkering again, he ends up walking into his gym where the team gathers to do their daily work out routines. He hadn't known this was a thing until informed fifteen minutes ago by JARViS. He enters the gym, ready to lambast whomever didn't tell him about team calisthenics only to discover the Widow and Cap in the middle of a Yoga session. 

It scares him. 

Steve stands with one leg out, his bare foot perfectly arched, slim and sleek. And Tony reddens which is all kinds of hilarious because where his body finds the blood to blush when all of it is in his dick, he cannot tell. Steve notices him and waves, and then promptly falls over. 

“You’re not even trying. I've seen you do somersaults and twirl your shield at the same time,” Natasha says. She tosses a towel at Steve, who catches it.

“Maybe I'm distracted,” Steve replies and Tony swears to Hell and back he rotates his shoulders like a predator about to pounce before he saunters (yes, that is what it is called) over to Tony. “Do you want to join us?”

Tony glares at him. He does his best _I hate Steve face_ but it gets him nowhere. 

Steve wiggles his toes. Ignoring that Tony never responded, Steve announces, “Time for ice cream.” Natasha only waves him off and goes to the punching bag.

Tony follows their Captain like a lost orphaned puppy and proceeds to watch Steve do all kinds of clearly illegal things to a triple scoop ice cream cone. He thinks he might whine a little. Out loud. 

Steve only leans back in his chair across from Tony, props his feet on Tony’s chair and finishes his perverse version of eating his dessert. All the while, his toes do fine things to Tony’s inner thigh. 

This isn't getting any better. 

Tony escapes and hyperventilates in his lab. When he comes back to himself he spends the next three hours looking up foot fetishes. He thinks feet are gross. He has to swallow back his bile at some of the images of toes, and nails, and ew. He can't do it. But why then are Steve’s feet turning him into some kind of maniac. 

“Perhaps, sir, it is the forbidden nature of the foot. Other parts of the body that are routinely displayed are more often touched. The foot is not.” 

“Huh.” Especially Steve’s feet. When it comes right down to it, Tony wants to touch Steve, all of Steve. But the feet, those bare feet that are always on display are teasing him, something he's not allowed to touch, but can be so easily shown naked. He fashions a plan, it's not a good plan, but still it's one he's proud of and thinks might work. 

Unfortunately over the course of the next few weeks, Steve wears his boots all the time. He's always marching around in his suit, getting ready to go on missions, or coming back from a mission. His plans foiled, Tony seeks out more advice. 

“Maybe you should just ask him out,” Bruce says. 

“Of course, you would say that. You're about as subtle as an elephant in a China shop.”

“Is that politically correct to say?”

Tony scrunches up his face. “What?” He shakes his head to clear his thoughts and then asks, “Can't you do this for me?”

“I am not asking Steve if I can examine his feet.”

“I can't see why not, seems like a perfectly logical thing to do. Steve wouldn't mind.”

“What wouldn't I mind?” Steve asks as he joins them in the common kitchen. For once he’s in civilian clothes again and he’s not wearing anything on his feet. They're glorious. 

“Bruce needs to check your feet.”

“I, do, no I don't. I really-.”

Steve raises an eyebrow at Tony but smiles nonetheless. “Sure, Bruce, you can check my feet. But I think Tony should be there, too.”

“Yeah, what?” Tony thought he would have to argue his way into the examination. But he's being invited, by the subject. 

“As a control, isn't that how you do science? With a control?” He asks it all innocent, but his eyes gleam with devious intent. Tony gulps in a breath. Whose evil plan is this? Tony starts to doubt he’s on control; of the situation.

“Yes,” Bruce says. 

“We don't need to do this, now,” Tony says and tries to escape. Steve’s quick reflexes come into play and he grabs Tony by the elbow, steering him toward the lab. 

“Now or never,” Steve says and Bruce agrees. As they start toward the elevator, Steve purses his lips at Tony and whispers _loverboy_. Tony judders and tries to say something but then Steve's acting all innocent and apple pie again. 

Damn those feet. 

They end up in the lab each on a table with their pants rolled up and feet hooked up to different wires and probes. Bruce has been meticulous about the whole project. On purpose and with malice. Tony curses him. 

Steve’s just lying there on the table with his arms folded under his head, whistling with those too perfect full lips. Sometimes Tony just wants to punch him in his perfect teeth. And then fuck his mouth. 

“Shit.” 

“What's that?” Steve asks and winks at Tony. Tony isn't lying down he’s sitting up, ready to launch off the damned table at any time. 

Bruce pretends to go through a series of complex studies that grow increasingly ridiculous as the hour wears on. Tony huffs and sighs and tries to talk his way out of being the control group. It doesn't work. 

Bruce makes Steve point his foot, arch it, wiggle his toes, lift his foot, flatten his foot, arch his foot and wiggle his toes at the same time. Tony has to go through all of the same exercises and he notices the rapt attention Steve has for the stupid experiment. This is not helping at all.

Somewhere along the way, Bruce turns to Steve and asks, “Do you have any special talents you'd like to share with us?”

Tony whimpers. 

“Talents with my feet, you mean?” Steve says, all the while smoldering at Tony. And it's smoldering, he saw that movie. 

“Yes, with your feet,” Bruce says. Bruce is cruel. The Hulk has nothing on Bruce. 

Steve puts on that apple pie smile again and says, as he gazes at Tony, “Well I'd need a test subject.” 

“Oh god,” Tony says and it actually sounds like someone just gutted him. 

Bruce positively shines with evil glee. “How about we use Tony?”

Very professionally Steve asks, “Won't that ruin the experiment, since he's a subject too?”

Tony says yes but Bruce overrides him and suddenly he’s sitting face to face with Steve on Steve’s table with Steve’s feet in his crotch. Tony grips the edge of the stainless steel table, and wonders how long he can last before he swallows his tongue. The man has talent, too much talent. Tony's going to embarrass himself all over the table and Captain America’s foot. 

He needs to escape. No one comes to his rescue. JARVIS is probably cataloguing Tony’s newest fetish slash kink right now. Until Steve says, “Open your eyes Tony.” It's more of a command than a request. 

Tony does, he's heated and beyond caring at this point as Steve’s toes curl into his sac and Tony bites his tongue. 

“Bruce is gone. Do you want to play scientist, or do you want to move this to your bedroom.”

He can't even squeak out a reply. That's when Captain America sweeps Tony up into his arms and marches him up to the penthouse. He goes straight to the bedroom like he owns the place, deposits Tony on the bed, disappears into the bath, spends time with the water on, and then comes back drying his feet.

“First, you're going to suck my toes until I come, then you're going to let me fuck you with my toes, and then I'm going to fuck you until you come.”

Tony agrees with rapid nods of his head. He's disrobing and flustered as Steve follows suit. Tony's not sure when the toe fetish happened, but it's magnificent and he cannot believe how fucking turned on and how many times Steve comes just with his toes in Tony's mouth. He's also flabbergasted by how hard he is when Steve sticks his toes into Tony’s ass. It's beyond fucking amazing and when did this become a thing, and why was he missing it all this time. By the time Steve hunches over him, sliding into him with his splendid cock, he's floating on blissful waves of subspace. He's never been here before, but it's like a drugged out dream and he’ll gladly visit again. Steve doesn't, in fact, fuck him, but slowly and gently brings them both to climax as he thrusts into Tony. It's a thing of beauty and incongruous with the feet fucking. 

When they finish and Tony wants only to cuddle, Steve spoons up against him, more than willing to give Tony anything he wants or desires. He notches his chin on Tony's shoulder and whispers, “I'm so glad my foot fetish didn't put you off. I knew you might like it, because you kept staring at my feet.”

“You walked around bare foot for a reason?” Tony asks. But his mind keeps circling around the idea of Captain America with a foot kink.

Steve nuzzles into Tony's shoulder. “It doesn't creep you out, does it? I wanted to see if you'd be interested. So glad you are.”

Tony should be distraught, disgusted, but he finds he’s only happy. Happy for the first time in ages as Steve glides his beautiful feet up and down Tony’s legs. 

This, this he could get used to, and the toes in his ass, well that’s just dandy, too.

He drifts off to sleep as Steve caresses him with his feet.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated. Come follow me on [Tumblr](http://winterstar95.tumblr.com) if you are so inclined.
> 
> Written on an iPad while cooking dinner, probably not the best time to write, so I must apologize for all of the mistakes and typos. I tried to catch them all but I am still finding them!!
> 
> I have art for this story by the wonderful ssyn3 on tumblr. Please go look at the [ art](http://ssyn3.tumblr.com/post/138431190093/this-is-a-gift-for-winterstar95-inspired-by-her) and like and reblog!


End file.
